


The Grand Finale

by puss_nd_boots



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, M/M, Mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the last stop on the world tour, and Ruki is damn cold. Aoi plans to warm him up with a very special backstage surprise, involving an unusual setting and a very special bit of wardrobe. Sequel to <a href="http://puss-nd-boots.livejournal.com/63869.html">The Autumn of His Discontent </a>and <a href="http://puss-nd-boots.livejournal.com/62216.html">Fringe Benefits.</a><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grand Finale

**Author's Note:**

> For those who wanted a Helsinki sequel to the Munich fic - here it is! This one is inspired not only by the tweets Aoi and Ruki posted while on the last stop of the Not-Quite-World Tour, but also by a couple of posts on the rather amusing pervertedjrockconfessions Tumblr - particularly [this one](http://pervertedjrockconfessions.tumblr.com/post/63494413015) and [this one](http://pervertedjrockconfessions.tumblr.com/post/63406351174).

Helsinki, Aoi knew, was cold. Damn fucking cold. As in, none of them had appropriate clothes for it. Ruki had been shivering and swearing from the moment they got off the plane. “We should have looked up the goddamn weather in Munich!”

“We didn’t have Internet in Munich, remember?” Aoi said. (Well, more accurately in the little hotel in the German sticks that was “home away from home” when they were playing Munich).

“We did in the airport!” Ruki pulled his usual hoodie tight around himself and pulled his head down, as if to sink inside it.

“At which point our bags were already checked, so it was too late to add anything to them,” Aoi pointed out.

“Fuck.” Ruki pulled his hood as far up as it would go, until it obscured just about all of his face except his sunglasses. He resembled an owl constructed out of black fleece.

Well, Aoi wasn’t letting the cold stop him from this particular outing. He had a mission. He knew this was the very last stop on the tour, and he wanted to make sure it was memorable for both of them.

So, they were in another suburban hotel. At least this one was nicer than the Munich one, and it had Internet. Plus, it was walking distance to some rather interesting shops – including just the kind Aoi was looking for.

He stopped in a convenience store after making his purchase and grabbed what he thought was an energy drink. It was only when he got out into the street that he realized it was a beer. Heineken, to be precise. Dutch beer in Finland. Multiple countries at once – this really was a world tour.

Aoi walked into the elevator and pulled out his phone, firing up Twitter. Ah, sweet Twitter, how wonderful to have it back. He was nearly going nuts without it on their last stop.

He tweeted about the beer as he walked down the hall, holding said beverage in the other hand, bag dangling from his wrist. He hit “send” just in time to pull out his key card and unlock the door.

Ruki was sitting on the bed, still wearing his hoodie, though he at least looked less owl-like. “So where did you go?” he said.

“It’s a surprise,” Aoi said, unlooping the bag from his wrist and dropping it in his “gig case” – the bag he brought with him to lives.

“I guess I can’t get you to give me clues.”

“No way,” Aoi said, flopping down next to the other man. “It wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?”

He pulled out his phone and opened Twitter again, typing, “This hotel is way too cool. Congrats, you win.” Almost instantly, a fan requested a picture, and he replied, “If I showed you a picture, wouldn’t it be like announcing which hotel we were staying at?”

“Ruki just posted one,” the fan replied.

“The hell?” Aoi said out loud.

“What is it?” Ruki looked up from his own phone.

“You posted a picture of our hotel?”

Ruki shrugged. “On Instagram. What, it doesn’t have the name of it in the picture.”

“Why don’t you just get up on the roof, wave and yell, ‘Hey, everyone, GazettE is in here!’”

“Are you kidding?” Ruki said. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” Aoi said.

“No. Because it’s really fucking cold out there, and it would be twice as fucking cold on the roof.”

Aoi grabbed his phone and opened a new Twitter window. “What is this?” he typed. “When I wasn’t looking, someone got a bit out of control . . . hey! Ruki-san. (“,_”)”

“Out of control?” Ruki waved his own phone in Aoi’s face. “I’m not fucking out of control!”

“You just sent out an open invitation for people to come find us,” Aoi reminded him.

“I did no such thing!” Ruki waved the phone again, as if wielding it like a weapon. “I know the limits! The same as they’ve been through the whole tour!”

“And it’s not like you to obey rules,” Aoi said. He got up, moved across the room and took a picture of a chair with a strangely high back and sides.

“I’m not fucking stupid enough to post a roadmap to where we are, though,” Ruki said. “I do want to have my privacy.”

“Oh?” Aoi looked over his shoulder at his lover as he began typing a caption on the photo of the chair. “And just what do you plan to do with your privacy?”

“What’s that mean?” Ruki craned his neck to try to get a look at what Aoi was typing.

“Well, I mean, this is the last time we’re going to be in a hotel room together in a foreign country . . .”

“Like you’re not going to be at my apartment almost every night when we get home?” Ruki scoffed.

“You don’t mind that,” Aoi said, hitting “send” on the chair post.

“You leave your clothes all over the floor,” Ruki said, going back to his own phone.

“And what am I doing when those clothes are off, hmmm? I seem to recall someone in this room saying” – he switched to an imitation of Ruki at his most dramatic – “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, Aoi, don’t stop!”

“You’re good at changing the subject, aren’t you?” Ruki retorted.

“I thought that was a subject you liked,” Aoi said. “And you’re going to really like it after the live tonight.”

That made Ruki look up from his phone. “What was that again?”

“Nothing,” Aoi said. “Just that there might . . . just might . . . be a surprise later.”

“Might?” Ruki raised an eyebrow at Aoi.

Aoi gave him a big smile. “You’ll see.”

Ruki grumbled something and went back to his Twitter – as Aoi’s smile got bigger.

Oh, yes, he was going to get a surprise later. He went out of his way to assure that their tour adventure had the grandest of finales.

* * *

There was sort of an odd mood backstage that night. It felt like a tour final . . . and at the same time, not like a tour final. There wasn’t going to be much difference between this setlist and the ones they’d played at other stops of the tour – for the most part, a grab bag of their recent work. They weren’t going to throw in Kanto at the end, or do extra-long MCs.

But at the same time, there was a definite sense of a chapter closing. True, they’d be going home to more work – the Beautiful Deformity release and its accompanying Japanese tour. However, it was the last time they’d be before a Western audience, at least for now.

Aoi, for one, knew he was going to miss it – the way these girls and women screamed almost loud enough to drown out their music, jumped up and down instead of doing precise furi, and sang along. It was all, in a way, very invigorating.

But, of course, this show had to be marred by technical problems. If there was anything Aoi hated . . . He just played on as the technicians worked on his amp. Focus on something positive, he told himself. Focus on later tonight.

Before they knew it, they were playing their last Linda before an international audience. They flung out their picks and water bottles, and then headed backstage.

Aoi just kept on walking, pausing only to give a brief high five to the staff. Time to put his plan into action. He reached for his gig bag and headed for the men’s room.

* * *

Ruki was getting rather annoyed. He’d changed out of his stage finery, wiped off most of his makeup, and his lover was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t seen him since they’d come backstage, in fact – and this wasn’t exactly an enormous dressing area. It reminded him a little of the live houses they played in back in the Road to Nameless Liberty days.

His bandmates were no help. “I haven’t seen him since we came backstage,” Kai said, wiping off the last of his own makeup – obviously, Ruki thought, in a hurry. He probably wanted to get back to the hotel with Uruha so they could have their own private celebration of the end of the tour.

“Sure he didn’t run off with one of the Finnish girls?” Reita said right before donning an air filter mask – couldn’t risk having the unseen nose on view, in case any fangirls had found the stage door.

“I’m sure!” Ruki retorted. “He wouldn’t do anything like that. The bastard isn’t suicidal.”

“Suicidal as in you’d kill him?” Reita said.

Ruki wasn’t going to answer that. Instead, he headed for the men’s room. Great, there was only one stall available – the other was occupied, and there were no urinals. He went in the one that was still open, grumbling.

He was washing up in the sink when he heard the other stall door open, and a very familiar voice said, “Took you long enough. I was just about to text you.”

Ruki whirled around. There was Aoi, all right. To be more precise, an Aoi wearing absolutely nothing but a red string bikini that only served to emphasize the anatomical feature lovingly known as Mt. Fuji.

Ruki just stared at him, flabbergasted. “What the fuck are you doing?” His eyes ran up and down the wonderfully toned body, which just looked all the more delicious and sinful in the inappropriate clothing, in the inappropriate setting . . .

“Nothing, yet,” Aoi said. “But we will be in a moment.”

“We?” Ruki said, backing toward the sink, and goddammit, why did his pants have to start feeling tight right about now. . . .

“Of course, we,” Aoi said, advancing toward him. “Have you ever been fucked in a backstage bathroom in a foreign country?”

“You’re crazy.” Oh, Ruki wasn’t taking his eyes off him. “Even for you, this is fucking insane.”

“Fucking insane . . . or insane from fucking?” He grabbed Ruki’s hand and pressed it to his shoulder. “Because that’s what you’re going to be. I’m going to make you scream as loud as those fangirls screamed tonight.”

And Aoi guided the hand, made it slide down over his chest, down to his stomach. Washing up after the live had been a bitch – the single shower was in constant use by the others, and he didn’t want to give his plan away, so he’d pretty much taken a sponge bath from the sink.

But it was worth it to see the look on Ruki’s face now as his hand glided over hot, taut, naked flesh, tracing the lines of muscles, moving down over the flat belly . . .

Ruki couldn’t believe this was happening. It was some sort of a weird dream, brought on by all the jet lag and odd foods. But, no, dreams didn’t feel this vivid, weren’t full of the erotic glide of flesh on flesh, the feel of Aoi’s heart beating under his fingers.

And speaking of hearts, wasn’t that his own hammering against his ribs? Not to mention the shaky breaths he was drawing? He felt like his whole body was trembling slightly, like a vibrating guitar string after being plucked.

When Aoi led his hand to the top of the red scrap of material, Ruki didn’t need to be guided any further. He felt himself reaching down, cupping Aoi’s cock lightly and leaning in for a kiss. Their mouths came together with hunger as Ruki began to stroke, feeling that hard thing through the cloth, oh, yes, Aoi was as turned on as he was.

Anyone could come in, they could be interrupted any moment, but suddenly, neither of them cared. Not when their tongues were caressing each other, and both were letting out small moans, and Aoi was reaching down to unzip Ruki’s pants . . .

Ruki reached out to the side, fumbling for the door. Yes, there was a lock . . . he turned it. Now, nobody could ruin the moment. Not when Ruki was living a dirty dream. He was the star of his own porno.

Aoi pushed Ruki’s pants down, and his underwear . . . then eased away with a little smirk, moving back toward his gig bag.

“Oh, no, you don’t, you bastard,” Ruki said. “You’re going to finish what you started.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Aoi said. “You don’t want to be fucked without lube, do you?”

He bent over to get the bottle out of his bag, and Ruki could see . . . oh, fuck, that wasn’t just a bikini Aoi was wearing. It was a thong. His entire luscious ass was on display, pointing straight up as he rummaged around for the lube . . . and was it Ruki’s imagination, or was Aoi wiggling it a bit?

If he was going to do that . . . Ruki reached out with both hands, grabbing Aoi’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze, rubbing it a little, then squeezing again.

“Ooooh,” Aoi said, looking over his shoulder. “You’re being aggressive, Bunny-chan.”

“How do you expect me to react when you wear something like this?” He raised his hand and delivered a quick, sharp smack to his left cheek. “This is stripper wear.”

“And you like how it looks, don’t you?” Another wiggle. “I’m just showing you what you want to see. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about seeing my ass later when we were on stage.”

Ruki wasn’t about to answer that with words. Instead, he leaned over, pressing his lips to Aoi’s bottom – a very naughty, very intimate kiss. Oh, it felt so good, kissing him like this, the flesh so wonderfully firm and hot. His finger ran up and down the cleft, tracing it, feeling the one little bit of fabric that was there, serving only to hold up the rest of the thong.

“Mmmm,” Aoi murmured. “Go ahead – play all you want. And you love to play. You’re so dirty . . . so sexual. You get off on making all those fangirls want you. You tease and play with them all the time.”

“So do you,” Ruki said, letting his fingers slip up and down the cleft again. They slid under the little strip of cloth, slipping dangerously near the puckered opening. For a moment, there was a serious question of who was going to be fucking who.

“You like watching me tease them,” Aoi said. “You like the idea that you and I are both making love to a live house full of women. It’s like the world’s biggest orgy.”

Goddammit, why did he always say things like that? It just made Ruki feel a huge shudder from his head to the tips of his toes. He dealt with it by leaning over, biting Aoi’s ass gently but firmly, drawing some of the flesh in his lips and sucking.

“Ooohh, yeah,” Aoi moaned. “Soo good . . . bite me again, harder . . .”

Ruki moved his head and sunk his teeth into that firm curve, feeling almost like some sort of erotic vampire, feeling Aoi stiffen as he cried out louder. Ruki moved his head again, and this time, he reached around Aoi’s body, sliding his fingers into the thong, touching his erection.

He stroked his lover’s cock at the same moment he bit his bottom again, sending a shock of mixed pleasure-pain through Aoi, intense enough so that the other man nearly fell over, moaning and panting. “Fuck!” he cried. “Oh, Ruki!”

It was that little moment of loss of control that turned Ruki on more than anything else – knowing that he could reduce Aoi, usually in perfect command even when he was bottoming, to a quivering mass of passion who was totally helpless against what he was feeling – if only for a few moments.

Ruki bit and stroked again, and Aoi cried out, bracing his hands on the wall to keep from falling over, shuddering and panting from the pleasure/pain. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “Oh, sweet merciful FUCK.” He looked over his shoulder at Ruki. “Bend over the sink. You’ve earned a good fucking for this.”

He turned around, grabbing Ruki’s hands, guiding him to his feet. Ruki found himself spun around and pushed over, hands on the washbasin – and he felt a sharp smack on his hindquarters, as if it were retaliation for the bites he gave Aoi.

“You’ve just shown how badly you want my cock in you.” Aoi slicked his fingers quickly, pushing the first one into the vocalist’s body. “Do you know how hard you’ve made me? You’re going to find out in a moment.”

The finger moved within Ruki, opening him up, making him moan loudly and arch his hips toward Aoi. “More,” he moaned.

“You’ll get more.” The second finger slipped in. “You’ll get every bit that you can handle.” He began to move them in and out, and Ruki thrust his hips back harder. Oh, yes, those fingers felt good, so hard and skilled, moving back and forth slowly, trying to touch as many parts of Ruki as possible.

“Oh, my God,” Ruki moaned as one particular little finger flick touched a part of him that made him moan loudly. The third finger followed right after that, and Ruki began to thrust even harder, fucking himself on them hard, not caring about any pain, just wanting to be filled.

“Look at that,” Aoi murmured. “Look at you fuck yourself. Go on – there’s a mirror right there.”

Ruki raised his head, and saw his own face, eyes glazed with passion, lips parted, skin flushed, the very picture of hunger and need . . . and behind him, Aoi, eyes seeming to devour him as his fingers filled him, the men’s room stalls providing a bizarre, but strangely exciting background. A porno image, all right – except it was real, it was happening.

Suddenly, Ruki felt he was experiencing the surreal oh-my-God-is-this-really-happening feeling that he imagined their fangirls experienced during their lives.

Aoi slid the fingers out, pulled down the thong and quickly lubed himself. He grasped Ruki’s hips, pressing against him . . .

Ruki watched his own face in the mirror as Aoi penetrated, seeing the tightness of his jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes when he felt the initial pain, then relaxing as it faded, as Aoi paused within him, getting them both used to the sensation.

When his lover started to thrust, and the warm, tingling feelings started to spread through Ruki, he watched his eyes flutter near-closed (keeping them open just enough to see the mirror), his head tip back, his lips purse and part to let out a moan. And behind him, Aoi’s face bore its own look of bliss as he pushed forward, filling Ruki, then pulling back, then filling him again.

“You’re beautiful,” Aoi murmured. “Look at how beautiful and sexy you are. So many men and women would like to see you like this, would like to fuck you like this . . . but this moment is just for us, isn’t it?”

Ruki responded by thrusting back hard, taking more of Aoi in, feeling that glorious, big cock filling him, possessing him. “Go on,” Aoi murmured. “Take it all. You can’t get enough. You can never get enough.”

He moved faster, harder, eyes fastened to the mirror, watching his own mouth open, moist and panting, his skin glistening with sweat, his hair mussed . . .

And then, there was a hard thrust that made sparks shoot through him. His eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a ragged cry. “Aoi . . . fuck, oh, FUCK . . .”

Another hard thrust against the same spot, accompanied by Aoi’s fingers wrapping around him, stroking hard, making the pleasure crest, and burst . . . Ruki found himself yelling the other man’s name as he shuddered with his climax, until he sagged forward, grabbing the sink for dear life.

He felt Aoi grip his hips again, and thrust hard a few more times . . . before he cried out as well, burying himself in Ruki until the shudders faded.

Aoi sagged on top of Ruki, clinging to them, and they stayed there for a long moment, panting heavily.

Then, Aoi kissed Ruki’s temple, saying, “That was a first, wasn’t it?”

“Mmmph.” Ruki still wasn’t ready for coherent speech yet.

“Now, you can’t tell me you’ve been fucked in a backstage bathroom before,” Aoi said.

“What makes you so sure?” Ruki mumbled.

“Because I know you,” Aoi said.

Sometimes, Ruki wondered if Aoi knew him too well. He’d never mentioned men’s room sex as one of his fantasies – even though he’d thought about it. Of course, he never thought anyone would actually go through with it, either.

“Where the fuck did the thong come from?” Ruki said. “I don’t think they’re exactly wearing them in the streets here.”

“Oh, that was easy,” Aoi said. “All I had to do was look around for the sex shop. If I learned one thing on this tour, it’s that every city or town has one. I was looking at a black one, too, but I thought this one was sexier.” He hugged Ruki. “And you looked like you agreed.”

“Are you going to make a regular practice of wearing those things?”

“Well, I don’t know. Are you going to make a regular practice of being turned on by them?”

Ruki sighed. “You and your one-track mind.”

“And your mind is on the same track.” Aoi stood up, stretching. “Guess we don’t have to go far to clean up, do we?”

Ruki sighed – because Aoi was right. He really did know him all too well. And if Ruki could reap the benefits? He didn’t mind that one little bit.

Even if it meant doing something as crazy – and as hot – as backstage men’s room sex.

* * *

When they got to the hotel, fortunately, there was nobody on their crew in the lobby. Kai and Uruha had long since gone upstairs together. Reita was out with a few of the staff – in particular, a certain pretty female staff member he’d started to get closer to during this tour. Their journey had benefits in many ways, it seemed.

“You know what?” Aoi said, when they were waiting for the elevator. “Despite everything? I don’t want to go home. Not really.”

“We have to,” Ruki said. “New album, remember? New tour back home?”

“Oh, I remember,” Aoi said. “It’s just that .. .” He reached for Ruki’s hand as the elevator arrived. “I’m going to miss this, you know?”

Ruki was silent as they stepped into the lift. The doors closed, and it started moving upward.

This . .. meaning going up to their room together every night. Being as one. And suddenly, Ruki knew he’d miss it, too. But this part of the tour didn’t have to end, did it?

“You know,” he told Aoi as the elevator pinged to a stop, “you were planning to move this year anyway. Why don’t you just move in with me?”

Aoi just stood there. Did he just hear that? Did he just hear the words he’d been waiting to hear since . . . well, fuck. Since as long as he’d known Ruki.

“Well, how about that,” Aoi said. “That sounded like you want us to live together.”

“That’s exactly what it was,” Ruki said, heading for their room and taking out his room key.

“Really?” Aoi said. “I do throw my clothes on the floor sometimes, you know.”

“I’ll live,” Ruki said, pushing the door open.

Aoi followed, and then pushed it shut behind them, whirling around, dropping the gig bag and taking his boyfriend in his arms. Yes, they’d taken that step, hadn’t they? They’d crossed that line from friends-with-benefits to boyfriends.

“We’ll worry about clothes on the floor when we go home,” he said. “For now . . . we have a hotel bed to test out yet. And I’m still wearing the thong, you know.”

“You really are insatiable,” Ruki murmured.

“So are you,” Aoi said. “That’s why we get along so well.”

They headed for the bed together, hand in hand – the first night of an infinite number before them.

Of all the things to come out of the world tour, this may have been the best one.


End file.
